


Human Civility

by TartCherryJuice



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TartCherryJuice/pseuds/TartCherryJuice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa walks quietly towards her, her bare feet silent on the light carpet floors, “What are you doing out here, Clarke?”</p>
<p>Clarke had been giving her apartment door a death glare as her neighbor made her way over, only turning to face Lexa once she was in close proximity, “I’m trying to get into my apartment.”</p>
<p>Clarke gives the other woman a quick once over, taking in her plain white tank top and sweatpants, before looking back up at her. Even in the darkened lighting, Lexa’s eyes shone bright and piercing, looking down at her with muted irritation.<br/>~~~<br/>Basically a college and neighbor AU all in one! An assortment of things may ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sleepy Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this over on Tumblr first, decided to slop it over here too =)

It’s two in the morning.

This isn’t something that she should have to deal with at two in the morning.

Clarke quickly raps twice on the door before looking around self-consciously at the barren apartment hallway.  _Her_  apartment’s hallway. The one that her and Raven share because they are such great friends. They don’t do things like lock the other out before promptly passing out in a drunken stupor.

“ _Raven!_ ” Clarke hisses at the bolted door for the fourth time because, honestly, she doesn't know what else to do.

Raven probably thought she had done such a good job, remembering to bolt the door in her intoxicated state. Clarke could picture it, the poor girl stumbling around the entryway before cranking the lock into place, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on her face. Such an accomplishment was surely rewarded with another drink from the fridge. 

This is what she gets for making sure all of their friends got home safely, apparently.

Clarke huffs in frustration, considering trying to phone her roommate again when a sleepy voice softly calls out, “Clarke? Is that you?”

The sound of her name in the dead quiet had caused Clarke to jump more than she’d care to admit. Clarke quickly whips around to face this new occupant in the hallway and was met with a silhouette of a head poking through a doorway a few rooms down, a small stream of light pouring through behind them.

“Lexa?” Clarke calls back just as softly when the other woman steps completely out of her apartment.

Lexa walks quietly towards her, her bare feet silent on the light carpet floors, “What are you doing out here, Clarke?”

Clarke had been giving her apartment door a death glare as her neighbor made her way over, only turning to face Lexa once she was in close proximity, “I’m trying to get into my apartment.”

Clarke gives the other woman a quick once over, taking in her plain white tank top and sweatpants, before looking back up at her. Even in the darkened lighting, Lexa’s eyes shone bright and piercing, looking down at her with muted irritation.

The two of them are forced acquaintances seeing as Lexa’s roommate, Ocatvia, is one of Clarke’s childhood friends. They exchange niceties when Clarke visits Octavia, but it usually doesn’t extend past acknowledgement of the other’s existence.

“Do you not have a key?” Lexa’s words are deliberate, the cadence of her voice distinctive in a way that Clarke always thought intriguing.

“My key,” Clarke thumps her index knuckle on the green apartment door, “is about five feet in that direction.”

Lexa’s scowl deepens, switching her gaze from Clarke to the door and back again, “And you’ve tried calling Raven?”

Clarke lifts the phone in her hand to eye level, flourishing it, “Twice.”

Clarke moves to put her phone away as she watches Lexa bite her lip in contemplation. Contemplation over what, she is unsure, but in the haze of her foggy brain, Clarke begins to notice the flaking skin of Lexa’s chapped lips. Clarke quickly squeezes her tired eyelids, hoping to blink the knowledge away and when she opens them again, Lexa is looking down at her.

“Come on,” Lexa suddenly instructs with a quick beckon in her wrist as she turns and starts to walk away.

Clarke follows her neighbor to the threshold of her and Octavia’s apartment, hesitating, wondering what exactly the offer is as Lexa opens the door and gestures for Clarke to enter. Lexa must notice her hesitation because her face softens for the first time that night, showing a bit of sincerity that Clarke has never seen from the other woman before.

“You can sleep here tonight,” she explains. “I’m not going to leave you to sit out in the middle of the hall.”

Clarke gives her a small smile at the proposal and steps into the familiar apartment, “Quite chivalrous of you.”

Lexa huffs in amusement and shuts the door behind them, “it’s basic human civility.”

Clarke shrugs her purse off onto the kitchen counter, careful not to disturb the orderly foodstuffs. Clarke watches Lexa carefully as she stalks to her clothes drawer in the next room and pulls out a fresh t-shirt. Glancing up to make sure that Clarke is looking, Lexa tosses the shirt to her.

“Octavia is staying at Lincoln’s tonight, you can take her bed.” Lexa explains and tilts her head toward Octavia’s bed in the shared bedroom.

Clarke bows her head in acknowledgement and steps toward the bathroom to get settled. Once changed and comfortable, Clarke walks back out to find Lexa sitting on the edge of Octavia’s bed, head bowed over her phone. When she hears Clarke’s approach, she immediately straightens up and looks her over.

“Do you need anything else?” Lexa looks almost embarrassed when she asks, perhaps unsure if she should have waited on the other girl.

“No, thank you,” Clarke answers sincerely and smiles at Lexa’s unsure gaze. Lexa gives her a jerky nod before stepping up and flipping the light switch.

As they are plunged into blackness, Clarke watches Lexa stride towards her own bed before speaking again, “I mean it Lexa, thank you for this.”

Lexa looks at her through the darkness and Clarke wonders if it’s just the bad lighting, but she swears Lexa smiles.

“Like I said, it’s basic human civility.”


	2. Stolen Apples

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol oops here's more. (No beta and minimal editing. yay!) But really, thank you all for the comments and kudos and everything! This continuing continuation (eh?) wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for you guys!

When Clarke awakens the next morning, her body stiffens momentarily at her unfamiliar surroundings before her mind promptly reminds her of the previous night’s predicament.

Massaging her eyes with the tips of her fingers, Clarke slowly rises until she’s sitting on the edge of Octavia’s bed with her feet lightly skirting over the floor. Her gaze is naturally drawn to the only light source in the double bedroom, a window with the blinds shut, the sun peeking in under and through the flimsy grey plastic. Given the dim lighting, Clarke looks over at the other bed to see if Lexa is still asleep, but she is met only with the girl’s crisply made bed.

Clarke stands after that and makes her way out of the room. When she opens the door, her arm immediately goes up to protect her face from the offending bright lights. She groans in frustration, but is eternally grateful that she had agreed to be the designated driver last night. Clarke always gets _the worst_ hangovers.

“Morning,” a familiar voice calls out to her and Clarke moves her arm from over of her eyes.

As Clarke squints, still fighting against the all too luminous room, she finds Lexa standing in the small kitchen. She’s leaning over the bar counter, looking impassive.

“What time is it?” Clarke grumbles. It’s not the most refined way to greet her savior in the night, but she’ll have to find time to care later. Right now she just wishes she was back in her own bed.

 “Nine-ish” Lexa says, her eyebrows scrunching in consideration. “How much did you have to drink last night?”

Clarke glares and sits down on one of the stools across from her, “nothing.”

There is the slightest movement to Lexa’s lips tipping upward, amused, before it falls. Once it’s gone, Clarke finds herself wishing she had gotten a better look at it.

Feeling more awake and aware, Clarke does a slow spin on her stool, looking around the apartment. Attached to the kitchen is a sitting room with a large TV sitting on top of an entertainment system. Clarke and Octavia have spent countless hours on the green couch, playing video games and binge watching movies and TV series.

It’s strange. She had never really taken a notice to her friend’s roommate. Lexa had always kept to herself. Whenever Octavia spoke of her, it was always of little significance – going to the gym together or Lexa giving her a ride to campus – things roommates do. And now…

Now Clarke finds herself wanting to know more about this girl with intense eyes and soft expressions.

She starts small.

“So, was I really that loud last night…?” Clarke asks as she spins to face Lexa again.

While Clarke was lost in her thoughts, Lexa had shifted her weight to fall back against the sink counter, her arms behind and bouncing her body against the granite. Lexa purses her lips.

“I’ve always been a light sleeper,” she explains and Clarke nods.

Clarke racks her brain for something to say, but comes up with nothing. Perhaps this isn’t the right time to pry anyways, Clarke had practically been forced on the other girl last night. Plus, she should probably make sure that Raven is okay. Maybe she’ll hear Clarke knock this time.

Clarke moves to say as much, but Lexa speaks before she gets the chance.

“I made coffee, would you like some?” She offers and opens the cupboard that stores the mugs.

Clarke takes a deep breath and lo and behold, she catches a whiff of the unmistakable heavy scent of coffee. She hesitates before accepting and watches as Lexa pulls out the mugs and pours two glorious cups of the liquid caffeine.

“Do you need anything?” Lexa asks, nodding her head towards Clarke’s drink.

Clarke shakes her head as she lifts the mug to her mouth, taking in the more concentrated scent, before downing some of the coffee. She hums in pleasure. It’s hot and wonderful and not nearly as strong as she thought it would be.

“Thanks,” Clarke says and wonders if she’ll ever be able to say anything else to Lexa.

“Of course,” Lexa answers and they are again plunged into silence.

Clarke takes a few more sips of her coffee and holds her gaze steady on Lexa. The other girl finds the counter quite interesting, but occasionally glances up to meet her gaze.

“What’s your major?” Clarke asks, knowing that Lexa attends Terram University as well.

“Physical therapy,” Lexa cocks her head to the side, smirk playing on the edge of her mug, “and you?”

“Fine arts,” Clarke mimics her expression, adding a raised eyebrow to the mix. Clarke holds that position and watches as Lexa’s face gradually wavers before they both finally give in and chuckle. Clarke has to resist the urge to fist pump at the sound.

It’s like a switch has been flicked after that. Lexa’s shoulders visibly relax and Clarke can feel her own body slouch into her stool.

Ice officially broken.

“Good thing your Octavia’s roommate then,” Clarke stands and walks around the counter towards the fridge, intent on stealing some of Ocativa’s food. “I swear that girl’s going to break her entire body one day.”

“She does come back here quite banged up sometimes, doesn’t she?”

“She’s been like that her entire life. Never knows when to back down from any kind of fight.”

Lexa and Octavia both partake in kickboxing. Octavia had started taking the free university classes last year and got really into it. It’s where the roommates met and quickly became friends.

Clarke plucks an apple from Octavia’s side of the fridge before straightening up and closing the door. Lexa is still leaning against the sink counter and Clarke takes a position across from her. The walkways is very narrow and Clarke does her best to ignore how close their knees are to touching.

“She’ll be really good, with some proper training,” Lexa states with confidence and Clarke looks at her curiously.

“Are _you_ really good?”

Lexa doesn’t hesitate with her answer.

“Yes,” and it doesn’t sound like arrogance.

Clarke looks her up and down with a mock critical eye, as if affirming that she’s telling the truth. However, her plan backfires when she sees Lexa’s tank top riding up a bit, showing the barest hint of skin. Clarke gulps before snapping her head up to meet Lexa’s eyes.

_Oh God._ That was the worst idea.

Lexa’s eyes bore into her own in curiosity, but also in something else that Clarke feels she is not in the right mind set to place.

Clarke’s always known Lexa was attractive, but now it feels like she’s being slapped over the head for not taking the time to notice just _how attractive_.

“Maybe you could come to class sometime.”

It is a statement, and Clarke nearly loses her grip on the counter behind her.

“Hey bitch, I’m back!”

The sound of the apartment door opening and promptly closing resonates with the voice as Octavia walks into the apartment. When she looks up to see the both of them in the kitchen, now facing her, Octavia’s eyes widen in surprise. She locks her attention on Clarke before speaking slowly.

“Did I horribly, completely miss something or…?”

Clarke looks down at her chest, the target of Octavia’s scrutiny and sees that she’s still wearing Lexa’s shirt. She looks around her surroundings in alarm.

Coffee, borrowed shirt, standing in the kitchen with Lexa…

“No!” Clarke side steps away from Lexa, and immediately misses the closeness. “No, she just…. Raven locked me out and I was tired and–“

Octavia cuts her off with a laugh, one hand over her stomach and the other pointing at Clarke. “Y – you should’ve seen your face!”

Clarke scowls at her friend before glancing at Lexa, who looks to be stifling her own laughter.

“Wha– you too?” Clarke tries to sound serious, but she can feel her own smile start to break through.

“What?” Lexa stops trying to hold back her laughter now, “it was a really good face.”

Clarke gives Lexa a playful shove and when she recovers, Clarke swears the other girl’s eyes are sparkling. While she still has the strength to do so, Clarke reaches past Lexa and places her empty mug in the sink behind her and steps out of the kitchen. If Lexa notices how their arms brush, she doesn’t show it.

“I’m going to see if Raven’s awake. I need to speak to an adult.”

Clarke walks past Octavia, but not before giving her a light push as well. Octavia responds with a weak mule kick as Clarke is slipping on her shoes.

“Raven’s a lot of things, but I’m not sure an adult is one of them,” Octavia retorts as she plops down on the couch. “Come back though. Lincoln told me about this TV show that we apparently _have_ to watch,”

Clarke’s standing at the open threshold of the apartment and she looks at Octavia, as if she’s contemplating the idea. Octavia sees the expression and spins on the couch, laying her chin on the backrest.

“It’s got five seasons on Netflix…”

Octavia drags out the last syllable, as if trying to tempt Clarke.

It works.

“Fine,” Clarke agrees and when Octavia turns to face the TV again, she sneaks a glace toward the kitchen.

Lexa is still there, and she’s staring at Clarke in that same intense way as she had been earlier. Clarke wants to say something to her, but she doesn’t want to make an absolute fool of herself because this girl is making it really hard to think, let alone form a sentence.

“See you later, Clarke.” Lexa says smoothly.

Clarke’s mouth is going dry and she can only manage a nod before she quickly shoots out the door and down the hall towards her own apartment, stolen apple still in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm 'lexacomeback' over on tumblr. Come over and say hi if you want!


	3. Whispers in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven is Raven and Clarke tries to overcome loss-of-words syndrome. Also, clarkexcouch4ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm the worst for taking so long. I'll try to do better in the future =)

Clarke pounds ceaselessly on her apartment’s door, hoping against all odds that Raven will be able to hear her. Anything to save her the embarrassment of having to go back into Octavia and Lexa’s apartment. After a time with no progress, Clarke hesitantly pauses her movements to listen, but she hears nothing from the other side. Clarke gives the door one last desperate strike and is immediately and miraculously met with a mysterious thumping sound from inside the apartment.

Clarke furrows her brow at the thud but relaxes when she hears what sounds suspiciously like a shin striking their coffee table followed by a loud curse. The distinct sound of the metal door handle being fumbled greets Clarke until, Raven finally, _finally_ , opens the door.

Raven looks to be contemplating murder as she squints through the light in the hallway and at Clarke. The room behind Raven is still pitch black, all of the lights off and blinds having been drawn with blackout curtains loose over the windows. That had been one thing that the roommates had happily agreed to invest on in their apartment – better for watching movies and TV.

Raven seems to quickly realize the merits of not killing her best friend and roommate and drops the murderous glare to adopt a moderately displeased one instead. Raven is still in the bright button down from last night, but appears to have fought out of her skinny jeans and into some comfortable sleeping shorts before crashing last night. Her messy bun bobs on top of her head as she moves out of the way to let Clarke in.

“Ugh,” Clarke groans in relief as she struts into her home and blindly face plants into the couch. It’s a secondhand from her grandparents, lumpy and fraying on some of the seams, but it has never felt more comfortable. She burrows as deeply as she can and wonders if the piece of furniture could swallow her up and prevent her from having to face her neighbor, having to face _Lexa_ , ever again.

“Hey!” Raven calls from the entryway as she closes the door. “I was sleeping there.”

Keeping her nose buried in the fluffy pillow that smells sharply of Raven’s coconut shampoo, Clarke shouts so that the other girl can hear. “You’ve lost all couch privileges for the rest of the week.”

Clarke can hear the shuffling of feet before there is a sudden heavy weight on the back of her thighs. Clarke lets out a sound of discontent at Raven’s added bodyweight, but that only seems to encourage her roommate, who takes the opportunity to lean over and press her chest over Clarke’s back. Raven’s elbows dig into her triceps as she tries to make herself comfortable, but Clarke can’t muster up the energy to fight back.

“And how, may I ask, did I lose that?” Raven asks innocently as she lays her head in the curve at the base of Clarke’s neck.

Clarke turns her head so that only her cheek rests on the pillow and spits out some stray hair that had made its way into her mouth. Whether it was her’s or Raven’s, she’s not entirely sure.

“Do you know what time it is?” Clarke inquires as way of explanation.

Raven sits up to check the digital clock over their stove top across the room and Clarke takes the opportunity to pull herself onto her hands and knees, effectively throwing Raven off balance and onto the ground. Clarke would be lying if she said the girl’s yelp of surprise didn’t make her feel a little better.

“Okay,” Raven sits up and glares at the couch through the dark living room. “That’s the second time I’ve fallen off that thing in the last five minutes. I think it’s angry.”

“That’s because it knows you deserve it.” Clarke states as she rises to her feet on top of the couch and steps off over the arm rest and safely onto the linoleum ground.

Clarke contemplates flicking on the lights in the living room and kitchen as she makes her way toward her room, but decides against it. It doesn’t seem like Raven is too hung over, but Clarke decides she’s had enough punishment for now.

“Holy _shit_ ,” Raven’s voice pierces through the silence and Clarke assumes that the brunette finally took notice of the time.

Clarke stops in her bedroom doorway and leans against the doorframe, facing Raven, who looks to have only just gotten steady on her feet. Clarke taps the apple that is still in her hand (an amazing feat really) lightly on her opposite arm after she sloppily crosses them.

“And now you know why you lost your couch privileges.” Clarke announces as she watches Raven’s form approach her.

Once close enough to make out her facial expression again, Clarke notices that Raven has the grace enough to look slightly guilty, at least. Raven scratches at her hair and glances at the floor.

“You didn’t stay out there all night did you?” she asks. When Clarke is silent for a moment, Raven’s head shoots up in panic. “You didn’t, right?”

Clarke lifts the apple to her lips, running the smooth skin lightly over her own.

“No.”

* * *

 

“Took you long enough,” Octavia grumbles when Clarke knocks on her neighbor’s apartment door nearly an hour later.

Clarke had taken a much needed shower and shoved down a light breakfast before heading over. Raven’s mood had gradually improved over the time period, but declined when Clarke offered for her to join her and watch whatever Octavia had in store. Raven said she had some kind of study group she had to go to for a group project. Unfortunate for a Sunday.

Clarke decides not to answer Octavia’s gripe and instead makes a beeline toward the kitchen and into her friend’s stash of junk food. Octavia follows close behind, her annoyance forgotten, and readily helps Clarke as she tries to balance a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, a box of fruit snacks, and two Mello Yello’s in her arms.

“So, what am I getting into?” Clarke inquires as Octavia grabs a packet of popcorn and throws it in the microwave. Octavia punches in a cooking time over the greasy number pad before answering.

“Alright,” with her hands free, the other woman makes a dramatic gesture. “So Lincoln told me it’s a basically a post-apocalyptic sci-fi. The human race survived by living in space for, like, a couple hundred years or something. _But_ , they’re running out of oxygen–“

Octavia is cut off by Lexa stepping out of the previously closed off bedroom. Clarke’s head shoots up at the sound, arms still full of sugary snack foods, and immediately feels inadequate in every way because, just – Jesus fuck, _really_?

Clarke only allows herself a moment to run her gaze over Lexa, but it only takes that long for Clarke to admit that this outfit is really doing something for her.

Lexa is unabashedly wearing only a purple and black sports bra with long black soccer shorts covering a good portion of her thighs. Her core doesn’t have the sleek, defined six pack that Clarke had imagined when she caught a glimpse of it earlier. Instead it is somewhat rounded out, harder to pick out each segment, but unmistakably muscular and incredibly powerful. The kickboxer’s feet are bare and she is absentmindedly wrapping one of her hands in some kind of cloth as she takes in the both of them.

“Hello again,” she greets Clarke plainly as she finishes wrapping her right hand, completing the outfit. Clarke keeps her eyes trained on Lexa’s face.

A strained, “hey,” is all Clarke manages in return.

It’s in this moment that Clarke wishes that Lexa would go back to being the tiniest little blip on her social radar. It’s still a new development, this crush on her friend’s roommate (because she’s woman enough to admit that’s what it is) but Lexa isn’t playing fair. That is, if the brunette is even aware that she’s playing.

Probably not.

“You wanna watch some Netflix?” Octavia breaks sudden silence with her question as she leans on the sink counter to see past Clarke. If Lexa is in the apartment, Octavia always asks if the other girl wants to join them whenever they are about to binge, and she always declines.

Lexa eyes deliberately shift from Octavia to Clarke, looking over her person, before lifting up her hand to show them the finished bind.

“Perhaps after?”

And then she’s walking through the living room to what is supposed to be another bedroom, but the roommates had long ago agreed to make into a personal workout facility instead. That agreement was one of the major reasons that the sophomore and junior undergrads had shacked up together in the first place.

When the door closes, Octavia walks past Clarke and slowly rounds on her, using the corner of the bar counter as leverage. Her face is scrunched up in confusion and suspicion. “Was that a ‘maybe’?”

They’ve always gotten a firm, _no, thank you_ , from Lexa before today and Clarke has to squash down the hope that bubbles in her chest. She can’t, however, stop the small smile from forming on her lips.

Clarke answers her friend with a noncommittal shrug, trying not to show her interest in the subject. This only causes Octavia to squint her eyes even more and study the blonde, as if she holds the explanation and just isn’t telling her.

“What?” Clarke asks, trying to sound irritated. “You asked her, and she said maybe. Is that so weird?”

Octavia juts out her bottom lip, looking thoroughly unconvinced, and snatches one of the Mello Yello’s out of her arms. “I guess we’ll see.”

* * *

Clarke and Octavia are most of the way through the second episode of the series when Lexa steps into the living room. Octavia lifts her hand to cover the light coming from the open door and into their dark home theater, but Clarke keeps her gaze on Lexa, TV forgotten. Lexa’s silhouette in the doorway reminds Clarke of the image of her last night in the hallway and she feels her breath quicken, wondering if Lexa will join them or not.

They had heard the Lexa’s music stop about twenty minutes ago, and she looks to have showered in the bathroom next to the workout room. Her clothing choice is similar, but at least she won’t be giving Clarke any more heart palpitations today, having adopted a t-shirt to cover her torso this time.

Clarke turns to face to TV once more, not daring to sneak looks over at Lexa when she closes the door behind her and walks toward them. Clarke is staring at the teenagers running around on the TV, but she can’t process their movements, too focused on listening for Lexa’s footsteps in the dark.

“May I?” Lexa’s voice inquires suddenly and quietly, much closer than Clarke had realized.

Clarke looks up to her right and is met with Lexa bent over at the waist only a few feet away. Clarke opens her mouth to speak her _definite_ affirmative, but decides, yet again, that she doesn’t trust her voice and instead nods.

Lexa quickly picks up the empty popcorn bowl blocking her seat at the end of the couch and sits down in a manner that’s almost delicate. She picks up one of her feet, tucking it under herself, and leans on the armrest of the three person couch.

As Lexa fidgets to get comfortable, Clarke suddenly remembers something she meant to mention earlier. Clarke glances at Octavia on her other side, whose gaze is still glued to the screen, before leaning toward Lexa. However, she pauses when her movement gets Lexa’s attention.

The brunette’s eyes shine with curiosity, the reflection of the TV playing in her irises. She had meant for this to be an innocent gesture, one she had been making without thought, but suddenly it doesn’t feel as such. No, not with the way Lexa is looking at her in the dark.

Clarke shakes her head slightly, trying to rid herself of such thoughts because _nothing has changed since yesterday_. She won’t let this dumb, _infatuation_ , become a problem.

Clarke licks her lips in determination before leaning in all the way so that she can whisper in the girl’s ear.

“I’ll wash your shirt and get it back to you later.” Clarke states. A pause, “if that’s okay?”

Clarke can see the small smirk on Lexa’s lips when she sits back up into her original position. However, she doesn’t expect it when Lexa swiftly leans toward Clarke this time, lips just inches away from her cheek.

“As long as you don’t forget your key.”

The hot breath on her ear causes Clarke’s own breathing to fumble, getting caught on her tongue and refusing to let air into her lungs. She closes her eyes to try and regain some façade of normalcy, but it quickly shatters when there is another puff of warm air on her skin. This time just behind her ear, along the hairline. Clarke can feel every inch of her own body, simultaneously hyperaware of everything around her, but also numb to everything but this girl sitting next to her on the couch.

Clarke clenches her jaw and slowly starts to turn her head to face this _horrible_ tease, but just as quickly as it was there, the warmth is gone, and Clarke feels a deep pang in her gut at the loss.

Yeah. 

This is a problem.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone actually wants me to continue this, let me know! I may need some prodding (or maybe not).


End file.
